My 88-year-old Latina mother, triple vaxxed and a diligent mask wearer, is struggling with COVID.
Two weeks ago, I sat outside her apartment in my camping chair as her blood pressure plunged 40 points in one day, her heart rate dropped to 50, and her hacking cough prevented her from getting any sleep. We couldn’t get her in for treatment in an emergency room, nor could we access any of the antiviral drugs or monoclonal antibody treatments we’ve heard so much about. I couldn’t even get a her a telemedicine appointment with a doctor — any doctor — for three days.
Read more here: Op-Ed: In the Omicron surge, I am my family’s anger translator
